


Luxury

by Lassarina



Category: Suikoden I
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-03
Updated: 2012-03-03
Packaged: 2017-11-01 00:58:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lassarina/pseuds/Lassarina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have a rare night alone, a luxury for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Luxury

**Author's Note:**

> Written for AreYouGame on Dreamwidth, for the prompt _Suikoden I, Flik/Odessa: slow sex - discovering something new with every inch of her he explores_

She is not soft, as other girls he has been with before have been soft. Odessa is toughened by training and circumstance, her hands callused by weapons and her skin interrupted with scars. Some of the scars have healed well; others, hastily treated with medicine, are ugly lines that speak of too long hidden without access to good healers. Yet in the softness of her skin he can read the life she lived before she formed the Liberation Army.

His own hands are equally rough and battle-scarred, and they are a part of him. He does not wish they were softer. It would matter only if Odessa disliked his touch, and she does not; the way she arches when he trails his fingertips across her nipples, the way her breath catches tiny and sobbing in her throat when he explores her wet heat, the way her strong fingers with their short nails dig into his shoulders—all these things speak to him more strongly than her words.

They have few luxuries on the run, but tonight is one such; they have the hideout to themselves while the others are occupied elsewhere. Flik takes his time easing up the hem of Odessa's tunic, pressing a kiss or several on each inch of skin revealed. She undoes his clothes as slowly as he does hers, opportunities for kisses and caresses with each touch. This scar here on her shoulder, she got fighting to escape from the soldiers who had killed Achilles, of whom they generally do not speak. This one here, on her knee, came from a childhood accident; he discovers that she is ticklish when she laughs and playfully kicks as he traces around it with his tongue.

He has his own scars, and she explores them too, her lips warm against his skin. Some of their scars, they earned together. He knows her scars in theory, for they are not strangers to each other, but there is something different in being able to take his time. He has never noticed that this one curves like a crescent moon, and that one has a nasty edge like the bolts of his own Lightning Rune.

Given the luxury of time, he finds that the crease between hip and thigh makes her catch her breath and flex her hands into his hair. He finds that there are little freckles here, hidden where no one can see, and he kisses each one. She likes the lightest touch of his teeth, something he has never dared before, and being able to lean back and watch her as his hands move across her skin is amazing. To have the time to touch slowly, to find what she likes that is less obvious, is a marvelous treat.

More than fine clothes or rich food, more than aristocratic houses, _this_ is luxury, to test his own endurance and hers. He holds back until they are both nearly lost in this; never truly, for even here and now they must be aware of intruders, but it is as much as they have, and he cherishes it.

When they fall asleep with Odessa curled against his shoulder (not his sword-arm, just in case), he dreams of a day when this will be their everyday, and not a chance stolen moment.


End file.
